


The Real Playboy

by Nerd_Queen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because I'm sick fuck you, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Its mainly just viktor yuuri and yurio tho, M/M, Slightly - Freeform, not really - Freeform, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 02:44:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10480371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_Queen/pseuds/Nerd_Queen
Summary: What if Yuuri had found out about the banquet earlier??





	

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 3 of eyes on me and chapter 4 of Phichit's prank cam are on their way I'm just really ill rn so I'm writing this shit

Yuuri kicked the ice in frustration, the toe pick puncturing the scarred frozen sheet. With a frustrated growl, he raked his hand through his sweaty raven locks.

  
The Onsen on ICE event was in three days, and he was yet to properly find his Eros. Yuuri cast a look across the rink to the pair of Russians gliding seamlessly on the ice.

  
Yurio had already found his Agape, and now that he’d found it the teen’s performance was better than it already was.

  
This was hopeless, Yurio was sure to win, then Viktor would go back to Russia and Yuuri would have no coach and... and... who knows what Yuuri would do after Viktor left.

  
"Yuuri? Hello? Are you there Yuuri?" Viktor crooned, pulling Yuuri from his thoughts.

  
"O-oh. S-sorry, I just zoned out a little..."

  
"Why did you stop skating, Yuuri?" Viktor asked. "You were doing so well, your Eros is coming along."

  
Yuuri sighed, flicking gaze to Yurio on the other end of the rink. Yuuri took a deep breath.

  
"Look, I know you gave me this programme because you have complete confidence that I can do it, but I’m barely managing the technical aspects and my inspiration is childish."

  
"Nonsense Yuuri, you’re managing the technical elements just fine. It’s getting there, I promise you."

  
"No it’s not!" Yuuri cried, stamping his skate on the ice. "Eros isn’t me! I can’t be sensual, or seductive, or sexual. I chose food as my inspiration, how is that not a sign that I CAN’T DO IT?!"

  
"THAT IS IT!" Viktor roared, the sound echoing against the walls of the empty rink.

  
The silence was deafening as Yuuri’s heart pounded in his chest.

  
"I have had it with this: ‘I can’t do Eros’ nonsense! I came here with my heart open ready for you, after months of pining not once did you call me before drawing me here by skating my program with the passion I so lack only to push me away! Do I mean nothing to you Yuuri?! Did the banquet mean nothing?!"

  
Yuuri stared at Viktor, shocked by the outburst.

  
"B-banquet?! What happened?"

  
"And of course you act like nothing happened!" Viktor’s voice sounded hoarse, shaky even, like he was about to cry. "I opened myself up to you like I never had with anyone! Anyone, Yuuri! And you push me away!"

  
"I-I w-what?"

  
"Nevermind. It’s not like you care much anyway." Viktor said coldly, his voice wavering as his face hardened.

  
Viktor turned on his heel and skated back to the edge of the rink, grabbing his guards and clipping them on over the golden blades once he was off of the ice, grabbing his duffel bag and pushing past Yuuko.

  
"Yuuri, I heard shouting, what happened?" Yuuko asked, running to the end of the rink where Yuuri was, leaning over the barrier.

  
"I-I honestly don’t know..."

  
"He’s fucked up, that’s what. I’ve got this event in the bag, piggy. Viktor’s coming back to Russia with me for sure now."

  
"What did I even do to make him react like that?"

  
Yurio snorted, skating up to Yuuri with a smirk.

  
"You don’t fool me, piggy, I know exactly what you did. You can’t hide it from me."

  
"Great, then you can tell me." Yuuri said, folding his arms.

  
"I’m not telling you, you already know. Stop playing dumb, Katsudon" The smaller boy sneered.

  
Yuuri pinched his brow, sighing deeply.

  
"Is it because I refused a photo op with him while I was leaving the arena?"

  
"Huh?"

  
"Viktor saw me staring at him because I heard him say my name but he was actually scolding you, and he mistook me for a fan and offered to take a commemorative photo, but I turned him down and walked away." Yuuri explained, gently sliding his skate back and forth on the ice.

  
"What? No! He was literally just yelling about the banquet!"

  
"I didn’t even speak to him!"

  
"Didn’t speak with him?! You fucking flamenco danced with Viktor!"

  
"YUURI YOU DID WHAT?!" Yuuko screeched, leering over the barrier.

  
"I did WHAT?!"

  
Yurio stared at the pair blankly.

  
"...Wait... hold on... what’s the last thing you remember from the Sochi banquet?"

  
"I... remember my old coach dragging me there... and I remember the anxiety... and seeing Viktor... and I remember the drinking... then the next thing I knew I was in my room and I had a headache and a smudged number on my arm...”

“...Oh my god... Viktor is an idiot... no wonder you’re so stupid and scared of him! You don’t remember!”

“Don’t remember? What don’t I remember?”

“Making him fall in love with you! He went on and on about it for months, and when you didn’t call he was sobbing about it for days on end. And then the routine... oh my God that was the worst of all... Yakov was so pissed! He just up and left within a day of watching the video, but before he left he ran around the rink screaming his love for you and all that bullshit.”

“Oh god... he’s probably gone back to the Onsen. I need to get to him. He might leave.” Yuuri said quickly, speeding to the edge of the rink and clipping his guards on, shucking off his skates and forcing his feet into his trainers, sprinting out of the rink to his house as fast as his tired, protesting legs could carry him.

He stumbled through the door, nearly crashing into his mother.

“Yuuri, is everything okay, Vicchan is acting weird...”

“What did you do, Yuuri? The poor man looked like he was about to cry.” Minako demanded, hands on her hips.

“Oh no... oh god no... where did he go?”

“To his room... he’s acting very strange. He thanked us for our hospitality... he’s not leaving, is he, Yuuri?” His mother asked worriedly as Yuuri dashed upstairs to Viktor’s room, skidding to a halt in front of the paper sliding double doors.

“...We were wrong, Chris. H-he’s a player.... I shouldn’t have let myself get so involved...” came a shaky sounding Viktor from within the room. “Yeah... I’ll probably be back in Russia to prepare for the next season in a week.”

Yuuri threw open the door, Viktor’s gaze snapping up from the laptop beside him to the Japanese man who had burst into his room, the poodle lying melancholically on his chest parking up and yapping happily.

“What?! No! Don’t go!”

“Sorry Chris.. yeah, it’s him. I’ll call you back.” Viktor said coldly, tapping the mouse pad of his laptop to disconnect the call, pulling out his earphones and standing to face Yuuri. “It’s a bit rude to eavesdrop on others, isn’t it?”

“You can’t go!” Yuuri pleaded, ignoring Viktor’s jab.

“Why? You’ve made it clear that I’m not wanted here.” Viktor sniffed, folding his arms. “Before you say how, you know how. Constantly pushing me away, not exactly the most welcoming thing in the world.”

“I-I...”

“It’s because he was too drunk to remember!” Yurio interjected, stepping into the room. “Also don’t run off and leave your shit at the rink!”

“What?” Viktor asked, turning to Yurio curiously.

“You can’t expect someone to have eighteen glasses of champagne and remember everything the happened that night! Just because you can hold that much liquor doesn’t he can.”

“You... don’t remember? B-but my number...”

“Smudged when I woke up.” Yuuri explained sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

“...so you don’t remember anything?”

Yuuri shook his head mutely.

Viktor flopped down on his plush bed dramatically, groaning loudly.

“Yebaaaaaaat I’m such an idiot!” He whined, pressing his hands into his face.

“Hey! How come you can swear and I can’t?! I’m not a kid anymore!” Yurio snapped, stamping his foot on the ground angrily.

“Win two Olympics, four World’s and five consecutive Grand Prix, then you can swear.” Viktor said flatly, still covering his face.

“Challenge accepted.” Yurio spat.

“Yurio can you please leave, the grown ups need to talk.” Viktor sighed exasperatedly.

Yurio growled, spitting out a string of Russian explicatives and he stormed upstairs to his room.

An awkward silence filled the room, Yuuri pushing his glasses up back onto his nose, drumming his fingers on his thighs.

“...sit.” Viktor said quietly, patting the spot next to him.

Yuuri shuffled over, sitting down stiffly next to the defeated body of his coach.

“... do you honestly not remember anything?”

“I remember the anxiety, then seeing you, then the drinking. And then I woke up in my room.”

Viktor sat up slightly, pushed up on his elbows and reaching for his phone, quickly thumbing in the pass code and opening the photo gallery app, selecting an album marked ‘2015 SOCHI BANQUET ♡♡♡’.

“You don’t remember this?” Viktor asked, showing Yuuri a picture of himself and Yurio breakdancing.

“No... what happened?” Yuuri asked as Viktor swiped to a video, tapping play and letting a crackly voice fill the spacious room.

“YOU CAN’T DANCE FOR SHIT!” Yurio yelled on the screen storming over to a drunk Yuuri. “I COULD DANCE BETTER THAN YOU BLINDFOLDED!”

“That a- hic! Challenge, kiddo?” Yuuri challenged, leering at the younger boy.

“Yuuri,” came Celestino’s worried tone as Yuuri watched his old coach grab him. “I think you’ve had more than enough to drink-”

“NOOO! The kid ch- hic! Challenged me, he’s getting a challenge!”

“DANCE OFF! DANCE OFF!” Whooped the voice of Christophe Giacometti off-camera.

“DANCE OFF! DANCE OFF!” He heard Viktor join in from behind the camera.

“WHO HAS AN AUX CORD?!” came the yell of Canada’s Jean-Jaques Leroy.

“This is ridiculous.” Huffed Italy’s Michele Crispino. “This is a professional gathering, NOT A PARTY!”

“You’re just- hic! Pissed because you missed the podium! Dance with us pizza boyyyy!”

“Oh my god. Did I actually say that?” Yuuri gasped, shocked at the footage.

“Yep. It gets better. Watch.”

Music played, and Yuuri watched himself, in his drunken stupor, absolutely own Yurio on the dance floor.

Then he faced the camera.

“You want to dance with me, pretty boy?” He purred, sauntering up to the camera. He reached for something, and the camera jerked. “C’mon, dance with me Vi- hic! Tor~”

“Hold my phone.” Viktor spoke from behind the camera, a small shuffling sound being heard as he handed his phone over to who Yuuri assumed was Christophe.

“WOO GO VIKTOR! ABOUT TIME YOU GOT LAID! IT’S BEEN OVER A YEAR!” Christophe whooped behind the camera and Yuuri dragged Viktor onto the dancer floor.

“I hate you!” Viktor called, beginning to dance to the Spanish guitar being played.

“JJ since when did you have flamenco music on your phone?” Christophe asked behind the camera.

“I was gonna use it for one of my programmes, but it turned out too difficult. Still like the song though.” The Canadian skater shrugged.

They sat there for some time, watching themselves twist and swirling together seamlessly.

Then the scene changed, Yuuri shedding his clothes and the camera being handed back to Viktor, a purple thong clad Chris sashaying up to a pole and swinging onto it.

It wasn’t long before Yuuri saw himself join in, clad only in a tie, open dress shirt, boxers and socks, ‘Pony’ by Ginuwine blaring through the speakers.

“Jean-Jaques why do you have that song on your phone?” a petite red haired woman asked, the Canadian skater looking flustered as the Swiss skater laughed at him, hanging upside down of the pole, legs spread apart.

“I-It’s a good song?” the Canadian stammered as Viktor wolf-whistled off camera as Yuuri performed a particularly tricky manoeuvre.

The footage lasted a couple more seconds before it cut out, Viktor shutting off his phone.

“...so that’s why you assigned me Eros...” Yuuri said after a long silence.

“Yes.” Viktor nodded.

“Well, that’s embarrassing.”

“Why?”

“Because I pole danced and stripped while drunk in front of you and ISU officials.”

“Yuuri, that was the best night of my life.” Viktor said earnestly, placing his hand over Yuuri’s.

“... can you forgive me for not remembering and being an annoying student?”

Viktor smiled softly, kissing Yuuri’s nose.

“I think I can.”

**Author's Note:**

> YOUR COMMENTS FUEL ME
> 
> Tumblr:  
> NerdQueensBlogBitches.tumblr.com


End file.
